Black Rose
by VigilantMeadow
Summary: The parents' time is over; now it's their kids' turn. But when an old enemy rises, threatening them all, enemies will be forced to band together to fight the oncoming dark. Follow Albus, Rose, and Scorpius as they learn what they're really meant to fight.
1. Don't Get Your Hair in a Tangle

**So this is my first chapter of my Harry Potter fan fiction, ****Black Rose****. I don't own pretty much all of the characters, though I did create some, using J.K. Rowling's characters as their parents. Either way, I **_**do not own Harry Potter!**_** Otherwise, I would be rich and living in a one-story mansion in France with a white grand piano and watermelon tourmaline. Enjoy! And please review!**

**Chapter One**

**Don't Get Your Hair in a Tangle**

As the train sailed away, Albus stared out the window gloomily, watching his father's waving figure disappear as the train took the bend. All that was ahead of him for hours was the open countryside and the clacking of the train over the tracks. And, of course, Rose's endless chatter.

Rose Weasley, Albus's cousin, was already dressed in her black Hogwarts' robes and she had her wand out, excitedly informing him on all the spells she had already learned and prattling on and on about Diagon Alley, Gringotts, Olivander's, her wand…

"It's birch, see?" She showed it to him. Apparently under the impression that he was paying attention. "With unicorn hair in it. Eleven-and-a-half inches, he said." Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper, although they had the entire compartment to themselves. "That Mr. Olivander—he's quite old, isn't he? He scared me a bit—sort of creepy. Didn't you think so, Al? Albus?" She had to ask him twice before he realized she was asking him for something. "Albus, don't you think Mr. Olivander was a little odd?"

"Oh, umm…I guess so."

Rose's mouth twitched down a bit. "Are you listening to me at all?" she complained.

"Yes," Albus answered rather quickly. Rose rolled her eyes.

"What are you so distracted about?"

Albus hesitated. He had already voiced his fears on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. "Aren't you worried at all? About the Sorting?" His voice dropped. "Do you think there's a chance that I'd be sorted into Slytherin?"

His cousin was one of the few people he could confide in, along with his father. Rose didn't judge people…usually. And she was good at being understanding.

"There's always a chance," she answered honestly. "But, Al," she added as his expression drooped, "you are about the last person I would expect to be sorted into Slytherin. You're just like Uncle Harry!"

Al barely stopped himself from divulging his father's secret—that the Sorting Hat had thought about sorting him into Slytherin. But, according to Harry, the Sorting Hat would listen. Albus had a choice…right?

Rose picked up the abandoned topic about school and spells again, with Albus listening only faintly.

"Transfiguration sounds very interesting, of course, but I really think I'll like Charms. Then again, Defense Against the Dark Arts is very practical, and some of the spells you learn there are very useful…"

She continued like this for the better part of the hour, until the lunch trolley rattled along outside their compartment. "Something for the ride, dears?" asked the brittle voice of the little witch pushing the cart. Albus wondered if she had been pushing that cart since his dad was in school.

Once well-supplied with licorice wands, cauldron cakes, and Berty Bott's Every-Flavored Beans, Albus and Rose started up—what Albus thought was—a much more practical conversation.

"Well, _obviously_, you have a _very_ good chance of becoming Seeker, Al," Rose told him while opening another packet of Berty Bott's and popping one in her mouth, without checking what it was. "Ew, tripe," she grimaced. "Anyways, you have two generations before you who were Seekers—the best, as far as I've heard." Al grinned proudly, thinking of his dad and James Potter, his brother's namesake. "And Aunt Ginny is a very good Quidditch player, as well. So, I think you'll be the best at tryouts," she told him matter-of-factly. "I've seen you fly."

At that moment, several people decided to poke their heads around the door.

"Oh, yes, I think you'll do excellently, Al," said the voice of Selena Thomas, as she flopped down next to Rose.

"I'll see you later, Selena," her older sister, Artemis, bid goodbye, flouncing off to find her friends once more.

Selena was the mirror image of her mother, her long, dirty-blonde hair falling to her waist, her ears dangling with what looked like miniature radishes.

After her, Dorian Longbottom flung himself into the seat beside Albus and grabbed a cauldron cake, stuffing it into his mouth greedily.

"All righ', Al?" he asked through his stuffed mouth.

"Okay—how about you?"

"Little scared," he admitted, swallowing and smiling with pudgy cheeks. "But my dad said it's not all so bad, and I have you guys, don't I?"

"Of course you do," Rose said kindly, breaking off her conversation with Selena to grin at Dorian. Rose and Selena had an interesting relationship. Selena was her best friend—besides Albus, who she counted both as a best friend and family—but they were total opposites. Both took after their mothers and Luna and Hermione were…you could say different, but that might have been an understatement. But no matter their differences, Rose put up with Selena's abnormalities and Selena put up with what she called Rose's "narrow-mindedness."

"We'll always be there for each other," Selena assured him, with an unusual amount of focus. All four of them had known each other since they were small children but Selena was easily the closest to Dorian. Their parents had formed a bond over their last couple years in school that had lasted through the years.

They filled up the remaining train ride with idle prattle and snacking. Selena read them a quiz from her grandfather's magazine, the Quibbler. Apparently, Albus should hiccup twice every time he heard the word "fortnight" and avoid freshwater plimpies. Rose's lucky color was lemon yellow, so long as it wasn't worn on the first of any month that rained. She had snorted so much at that one that she drew attention from outside the compartment.

"What was _that_ noise?" a voice drawled, followed by a slender face that poked itself around the compartment door. "Oh, it's just a Weasley. I thought it was a hog—not that I was so far off."

The body of Scorpius Malfoy followed it.

"What do _you_ want?" Albus asked rudely.

"Nothing particularly," he answered mildly, "but I would rather prefer that it didn't sound like a bunch of pigs were trampling through the train." He scrunched his nose at the hurriedly rising heap that was Dorian, who had fallen out of his chair at Rose's laughter. "I suppose the clunking sound was just Longbottom falling over again, though."

"Don't you talk about him that way!" Rose yelled, her brown hair frizzing out.

Scorpius clucked his tongue. "Now, now Weasley, don't be getting your hair in a tangle over that. I'm just having a little fun."

"Then go have _fun_ elsewhere." Albus stood. His wand was poking out of his jean pocket.

He probably would have stayed taunting them, but Rose, who was still sitting, had her wand out too and, though less menacing, she certainly had more practice with a wand.

Scorpius squinted his blue eyes at her. "See you at school, mudblood," he snarled, and backed out.

Al sat down in a huff. "You should've hexed him, Rose—you should have!"

Rose patted her cousin's arm, in an effort to calm him down. "It's okay. He was just trying to get on all of our nerves. He couldn't have done anything, anyways—there was just one of him."

And that _was_ odd. Didn't a Malfoy always have followers? Where were Scorpius's little puppets? "He called you a mudblood." She nodded. "You are _not_ a mudblood! You're not even muggle-born! And, even if you were, you still wouldn't be a mudblood!"

He raged himself out and then they changed into their school robes, as Rose buried her nose in one of the textbooks.

By the time they pulled up to the station, night had fallen.

Out the window, Albus saw the gleaming castle, towers rising into the darkness, its glimmering reflection wavering in the lake. It was as still as glass, the night just as calm.

He had a feeling that Hogwarts was going to be very different from everything he had been suspecting.


	2. The Sorting

**So this is the second chapter of my Harry Potter fanfic, ****Black Rose.**** Sorry it took me so long to post, but I was lazy (I've had it typed for a while). Also, if you want to see more fan fictions, as well as Chapter 3 of this, check out my page on DeviantART, .com**.** And please watch for the chapters to come! ******

**Chapter Two**

**The Sorting**

Rose was nervous as she, Albus, Dorian, and Selena made their way through the crowd to where the call of "Firs' years this way!" came.

She wasn't nervous of the person who called it—though certainly being half-giant and three times her height was enough to install fear. She was nervous of the great castle and the Sorting and Scorpius Malfoy. She hadn't let her irritation at him show, except upon his insulting of Dorian, but the moment she had looked into his malicious, blue eyes, she felt a wave of hatred rush over her, with so great a force that she'd had to stifle her sudden urge to shout and curse him out.

He was just a selfish, pampered, rotten pureblood, from a Death Eater family, that was all.

That was all.

The foursome reached Hagrid after their struggle, at least not burdened by their trunks or animals—they would be brought up to the castle later.

"All right, Hagrid?" Albus called up at the giant of a man.

"Al!" Hagrid beamed through his overgrown beard. "An' Rose! Look at yea', jus' look at yea'! Yer getting' so big!" That was laughable, considering the size of him, and the four had to stifle laughter. He took up his call of "Firs' years this way!" again and the four found themselves ushered into a boat as soon as everyone else had found their way. Hagrid, seated in a boat all to himself, led the silent fleet across the smooth lake, falling into the shadow of Hogwarts.

Rose gazed up at it, spellbound. Winking lights smiled invitingly from stories far above them and she knew that one of those towers must be Gryffindor Tower; that was where she wanted to be tonight.

Albus shivered beside her. "At least we didn't have to take the thestrals," he whispered.

Rose smiled, remembering James's teasing from earlier today. Had it really been so short a time ago? Already, they were at Hogwarts, about to be Sorted, about to start the rest of their lives…

"You're nervous too." She glanced out from under her brown hair to Al.

"Of course, who wouldn't be?"

He smiled encouragingly and squeezed her hand. "Yeah, I guess we're all nervous, aren't we? Except Scorpius," he scowled. "We all know where _he's_ going."

Rose nodded.

They were silent for the rest of the journey, which was surprisingly uneventful. She'd heard that a giant squid lived in the lake and merpeople and all sorts of wonderful and terrifying creatures! She was disappointed not to have seen any of them.

Rose loved animals more than anything. At home, they had two owls, a dog, and some salamanders that lived in a bog in their backyard. Her little brother, Hugo, had an old cat named Gingy with a squished face and a rather bad temper. But, for some reason, Rose hadn't taken any of the animals with her to school. Maybe it was because she wanted to help Hagrid out with the animals in the forest and any of her animals would get in the way because she would constantly be taking care of them. Al, on the other hand, had a handsome snowy owl he called Silver and Selena had a cat she'd named Emberstreaks, due to his unusually-patterned coat. Rose personally preferred magical, fascinating beasts, both dangerous and beautiful…and dangerous in their beauty. That was why she enjoyed talking to Hagrid so much because he appreciated those creatures too; whenever Uncle Charlie was in town, she would engage him in conversation about dragons and not leave him alone until he had already disapparated back to Romania.

Magical beasts aside, the castle and the lake made a stunning picture against the night sky—black on black, with the occasional flames of light dotting the image. She imagined how very much Selena would enjoy painting it. Sure enough, the girl was far off, lost in her thoughts, staring at an image only she could see; probably she was working out just how she would paint it. Rose had gawked at her trunk when she'd shown her all the painting supplies she had brought along. She had tubes of acrylics and watercolors, brushes galore, and sheets of that heavy, painting parchment.

Her kitchen was an image out of some fairytale—preferably, one that had been dumped in a neon paint bucket. Flowers exploded on the walls and the ceiling was a mirage of the sky. Dancing creature wove in and out of the stems and each cabinet was painted its own vibrant shade. Rose didn't know how Dean put up with it, but somehow he did. He really loved his wife, she supposed. They'd been through a lot. Artemis, Selena's sister, was like her father—dark and tall, as well as firmly grounded on reality; Selena and Luna were…well, exceptional.

Honestly, Rose didn't care what anyone said about Selena—she was her friend, no matter her crazy theories and strange beliefs. She didn't care that she hung radishes from her ears or wore her mother's old butterbeer-top necklace. Then again, Rose wasn't one much set on image. The most she ever did was pull her bushy hair back into a ponytail, so to keep the curling strands out of her eyes.

The boats entered an archway and everything was lit by the dim glow of torches in brackets. They thumped against a paved shore and the boats stopped. Unstably, the first years rose to their feet and clambered onto shore.

Dorian nearly fell out of their boat, but for Rose and Albus's arms that reached out to steady him and help him onto solid ground. Selena smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, leading him over to where Hagrid stood with the collective first years. Rose and Al joined them at the back of the huddle, squeezing closer to hear what was being said.

"You lot stay here, 'til Professor Flavius comes to get yea'," he ordered, disappearing through the large doors that led to the hall. For the first time, Rose's stomach turned. Were Al's worries legitimate? _Could_ they be sorted into Slytherin? What would her parents say? What would Grandpa say? It was all too impossible to think about; they would be ashamed. They would try to hide it, sure, but it would be there. And, meanwhile, everyone would be talking about how Rose Weasley—a _Weasley_—got sorted into Slytherin, the house known for harvesting dark wizards; the house where the most evil sorcerer of all time came from—Lord Voldemort himself.

Rose bit her lip. It was all going to be okay. It was going to be fine, she tried to think logically. Did she have any Slytherin qualities? Cunning? No, she wasn't like a Slytherin at all! If she ended up in anything other than Gryffindor, it would be Ravenclaw. Yes, Ravenclaw would be an excellent house as well—it was where the brains tended to go.

For reassurance, Rose gripped her wand—eleven-and-a-half inches, birch, with unicorn hair, as she had so precisely explained to Albus earlier—in her pocket.

Selena drifted to her side, but in silence. Dorian was muttering under his breath, something like, "Oh, God, what if they don't want me? What if it doesn't stick me anywhere? What'll Dad think? Oh God, oh God…" He seemed to be worrying about not being accepted anywhere, which was just silly—he was a wizard; there was always a place for wizards.

"Worried, Weasley?" a voice asked, breaking through her silent panic.

"What does _she_ have to be worried about?" Albus retorted, his voice as rude and as blunt as before, when he countered Malfoy on the train.

Scorpius just smirked. "I wouldn't be so confident, if I were you, Potter."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Rose asked, jumping in on Albus's side. "You're the one who should be worried! Your past isn't exactly good, _Malfoy,_" she said, just to rub it in.

She saw she had hit home when both anger and hurt passed through his eyes. "_Don't,_" he enunciated, "talk about my family's past. You don't know _anything_, you stupid girl."

Al was just about to reply fiercely, when the door opened, revealing a slight professor, with lopsided glasses and a short, tawny beard. The three of them hastily separated from their hostile positions. Rose noticed, as she moved to face the professor, that most of the first years seemed to have been watching their argument, as they all looked away hurriedly when she raised her eyes.

"I am Professor Flavius," the short man said with a flourish. "Please follow me to the Great Hall. Single file, now."

He turned his back and trotted through the doors to the Great Hall, where Rose knew the rest of the school was seated, waiting with irritation for the feast to begin.

Her classmates followed him out, pushing friends in front of them, none too willing to go first. Finally, everyone was out, facing the four great house tables, their backs to the teachers. Placed in front of them, in a spot of honor, was a wooden, three-legged stool and ragged black hat. Both such unobtrusive objects. Yet, when the old hat seemed to split at a seam and poured out an ancient, wise voice over the entire hall, Rose knew that it was much more than it seemed.

She heard hardly a word of the Sorting Hat's song; she was too busy thinking about the Sorting itself, or about the history of the hat. She thought of all the great heads it had sat upon—Albus Dumbledore (Al's namesake), Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, and, of course, Godric Gryffindor himself—and the not-so-great—Voldemort, then known as Tom Riddle, and Bellatrix Lestrange. And that hat was going to touch her head soon, settling down right over her eyes and telling her which of the four tables to sit at. What would it see in her? Would it find her to selfish to be a Gryffindor? Too dumb to be in Ravenclaw? Would she be stuck in Slytherin? Or in Hufflepuff, where everyone knew—even if it wasn't said—those with no particular talent were sent?

She started hyperventilating, realizing briefly that the first name had been called—she recognized the slight form of Macy Abbot quivering as she walked to the stool. The Sorting Hat paused only a moment before calling out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" which was no surprise to most people. Hufflepuff was known only for its openness and friendliness. Macy was shy but about the kindest person Rose had met; she'd only seen her once, briefly, but in that time Macy had managed to compliment her hair (which she hated), her dress (which her mother had forced her to wear), and her family (which she saw too much of). It was a bit annoying really.

When the Hufflepuff table had finished cheering, Professor Flavius called out the next name. "Bellerophon, Magnus." A black-haired boy trotted up to the stool and shoved the hat over his pointed ears with clammy hands. "Ravenclaw!" it shouted after a moment's indecisiveness. With apparent relief, Magnus Bellerophon stumbled over to the cheering Ravenclaws.

The list progressed and when the L's were reached Professor Flavius called out, "Longbottom, Dorian!"

Dorian tripped over his own feet on the way to the Sorting Hat, raising laughter from the Slytherin table on the far side of the Hall. When he reached it, he sat down abruptly, placing the enormous hat on his hat until it slid down to cover his eyes, stopping only due to his ears. There was a moment of trembling silence and then, "RAVENCLAW!" Their table erupted in cheers of congratulation as a shell-shocked Dorian lurched over to them. Rose clapped along with them, insanely proud that Dorian had qualified for Ravenclaw, knowing how excited his parents would be.

The hall quieted again as Professor Flavius called this time, "Lovegood, Selena!" from the list in his hand.

Selena drifted over to the stool, apparently unconcerned. When the giant hat slipped over her head, it only added to her eccentric appearance. Rose had to stifle a giggle. "RAVENCLAW!" it called again and she cheered automatically. With Dorian, Magnus, and another boy, whose name she thought she'd caught as Gregory, that made four new students for Ravenclaw already!

Next came the M's. She thought she knew who was next and was right when the voice called, "Malfoy, Scorpius!" The Slytherin's raised their heads expectantly. Malfoys were known for being in Slytherin; it was just a habit of theirs, just as Weasleys always ended up in Gryffindor. And they were better off kept apart, too! No Weasley wanted anything to do with a Malfoy, even if they were supposedly on the same side now.

Scorpius walked with confidence to the stool, took the hat from it as he sat down, and set it on his blonde hair.

The moment of hesitation was longer than any of the others before. Rose had expected it to be quick. Ah well, she thought. It's just trying to figure out if pig-headedness counts as a talent or if he should go to Hufflepuff.

But, apparently, that was not what it was thinking. For, the next second, the Sorting Hat cried out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

**Please review!!! I really like to know what people think and if they have ideas or if they hate something! **


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